Tag Archives: realistic

How It Feels to Float by Helena Fox

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How It Feels to Float by Helena Fox
Dial, 2019.

Drawing on her personal experience of mental illness, the author creates an absorbing and authentic portrait of a teen girl under extreme stress.

At the beginning of the book, set in Australian oceanside town of Wollongong, 17 year-old Elizabeth “Biz” Grey feels disengaged and removed, and her brain gets stuck in loops.  Unsure of her sexuality, she tried to kiss her best friend Grace but is also attracted to new boy Jasper (all main characters appear to be white with the possible exception of Grace whose last name is Yu-Harrison).

Following an incident at the beach after which she is ostracized by her friend posse, she begins to lose her already tenuous grip on reality. She still sees and converses with her father, but he died when she was seven, and when she takes up photography, the images she creates literally speak to her. Her desperate and loving mother and endearing young siblings provide a solid home life but though Biz appears to be coping, inside she feels she is a “non-functioning sad person.”

The intense first person narrative puts the reader right in Biz’s head as her thoughts shake and circle around, showing her fuzzy line between reality and hallucination and her perception of the fragile line between life and death. It is a particularly tough read when she contemplates suicide but she ultimately decides that she needs to follow her father’s life in order to “get better.”

The author delicately and evocatively shows the complexities of mental illness as well as the challenges and grief it puts on friends and family. Will appeal to readers who appreciated Neal Shusterman’s Challenger Deep.

Resources are provided in the acknowledgements.

Reviewed from an ARC.

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Opposite of Always by Justin A. Reynolds

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Opposite of Always by Justin A. Reynolds
Katherine Tegen, 2019.

An intriguing YA fantasy romance, which goes on for just a bit too long.

On a college visit, African American Jack King meets “beautiful brown super-tight-curls” Kate at a party and falls for her. Over the next four months they meet up, flirt, and get close. Kate fails to turn up to Jack’s prom because she’s “genetically unwell” and has been hospitalized and within a few short pages, Kate dies and then Jack falls downstairs and also dies. But then everything resets and he’s back at the college party and has the chance to save her again (and again).

The author skillfully plays out this looping, if a little too lengthily, as Jack tries different paths to perfect his plan to save Kate, though these come with the usual unintended consequences of time travel, both trivial and catastrophic. Part of Jack’s challenge is to also keep the delicate balance with his two best friends, biracial Jillian and Latinx Francisco “Franny” Hogan, complicated by them being a couple without ever realizing Jillian had been Jack’s crush.

The central trio of Jack, Jillian and Franny is richly and convincingly drawn, though Jack feels a little like a male version of a typical YA young woman: insecure, self-deprecating, but beloved by his friends. Kate, conversely takes the usual male role of being somewhat unbelievably both one-dimesionally perfect and also interested in Jack. Though it’s nice to see this gender role reversal, it doesn’t make it any more credible.

The author tries to keep the various iterations different enough to stay interesting for the reader, but I felt that there was maybe one too many, or maybe the later ones could have been trimmed. I appreciate that this is a fantasy and isn’t going to pass a logic test, but it’s never explained why Jack doesn’t confide in anyone, even Kate, nor is any reason given for his resets, and some of his choices defy credibility.

I did love both the wide diversity of the characters and that them being of color is never the point of the story though is integral to it.

Perfect for readers who enjoyed David Levithan’s Every Day (Knopf, 2012).

A Good Kind of Trouble by Lisa Moore Ramée

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A Good Kind of Trouble by Lisa Moore Ramée
Balzer + Bray, 2019.

This has been seen as a middle grade novel for those too young to read Angie Thomas’s The Hate U Give, which is sort of fair though rather sweeping but also downplays the merits it has in its own right.

7th grade Shayla forms the “United Nations” with her two best friends: Isabella is Puerto Rican, Julia is Japanese-American, and Shayla is black. Shayla has never had a black friend – not because she doesn’t want to but because they weren’t many other black kids in her elementary school and now she has her friend group, but some of the black kids think she’s deliberately avoiding them.

And she has never been particularly conscious of being black, but as this is set against the backdrop of trial of police officer who shot a black man walking to his car, things have started to change. Shayla develops a growing consciousness of the Black Lives Matter movement which her older sister Hana is a part of and her parents discuss it with her in a matter of fact, balanced, and informative way, gently sharing the injustice of all the trials apparently ending in the same way.

Shayla finds herself becoming more engaged and involved, particularly after her parents take her on a peaceful candlelit protest and decides to stop avoiding standing out and being risk averse. She starts wearing a black armband to show her support for BLM and though there is some antipathy towards this from white students, mostly there is support and it becomes a movement at school. This is a low key introduction to middle grade readers about social injustice and civil rights. The violence and civic unrest takes place offstage, but Shayla’s championing of the BLM movement through her black armband is a terrific way in and metaphor for the wider world.

But as well as being a portrait of the awakening consciousness to social and racial injustice of a young black girl there are also all the usual things that happen in junior high like boys, friends, and branching out to new things, which the author seamlessly integrates. Shayla’s friend group seems to be falling apart: Julia wants to spend time with the Asian American basketball team she plays in, and suddenly Isabella has blossomed into a beauty who is catching the eye of the boy Shayla has a crush on whereas another boy seems to be crushing on Shayla despite her often outright rudeness to him. Shayla gets to know other black kids through joining the track team and being one of only two girls doing shop.

I found the author’s sharp portrayal of one of the teachers to be particularly on point. Though some of the teachers are cool, Ms Jacobs the white English teacher addresses Shayla as though she is the spokesperson for all black people in the school: “I hate when a teacher assumes that just because I’m black , I’ll know all about slavery and civil rights and stuff like that.”

There is a lot going on in this novel and it can be read at different levels. I think many middle grade readers will be engaged by Shay’s voice and her thoughtful progress through 7th grade and at the same time will be excited to accompany her on her journey of self-discovery.

How to Make Friends with the Dark by Kathleen Glasgow

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How to Make Friends with the Dark by Kathleen Glasgow
Delacorte, 2019.

When Grace “Tiger” Tolliver’s mother dies, she is catapulted into a grief-filled and uncharted future in this devastating YA novel.

16 year-old white Tiger and her mother are a tight-knit and insular unit, but when Tiger tentatively tries some baby steps at independence, it turns sour and she ends up lashing out at her mother’s claustrophobic protectiveness: “Why can’t you ever just fucking leave me alone.” That turns out to be the last thing she says to her mother who dies of a brain aneurysm later that day.

As there are no other relatives, Tiger is dropped into the state system while still in a tumult of grief. Refusing to eat or take off the hideous dress her mother bought her for a school dance, Tiger retreats into herself. However, her mother has left behind information about her father, and social services manages to dig up a 20-year-old half sister who agrees to be Tiger’s guardian, who has her own problems. Quite how this is considered acceptable when the parents of her best friend are turned down despite being comfortably off and having known Tiger for many years (there is no specific author’s note on the authenticity of this, but the author is familiar with the system so I take it that she knows what she’s writing about).

As she counts the minutes since her mother’s death, Tiger feels like an object being shuttled around the system. In her brief time in the emergency foster care system and later in a group home, Tiger meets caring adults who are genuinely trying to help her and others, as well as coming across stories of sickening abuse by both biological and foster parents.

Her narrative is interspersed with notes from a primer Tiger writes in her grief counseling group about dealing with the death of her mother and the ensuing emotional fallout, because there wasn’t one for her to follow and she wants other people to know what it feels like.

Though she still feels like she’s “walking around with a Grand Canyon of grief in [her] heart,” Tiger and  and the other “lost kids” she meets are slowly making families “out of scraps.” Kids she would have ignored or been intimidated by when she coasting through life not knowing what was about to hit her become close allies because of what they share.

This is a tough book to read. Early on, I was seriously considering abandoning the novel because it was so hard to read the raw feelings and comprehend the seriously messed up situation. But the author has a steady hand with light and shade, making it just about bearable, and readers who look for sad stories will find a gem here.

Rayne and Delilah’s Midnite Matinee by Jeff Zentner

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Rayne and Delilah’s Midnite Matinee by Jeff Zentner
Crown, 2019.

Rayne Ravenscroft and Delilah Darkwood are the onscreen names of high school seniors Josie and Delia for their public access TV show where they present schlocky horror movies from the 1970s.

They make a good team. Delia knows and loves these horror movies because they are all that’s she has of her dad who left her and her mum when she was eight, and hasn’t been heard from since. Josie, however, has always wanted to work in TV, so when she is offered an internship at the Food Network, she is torn between trying to make Midnite Matinee a success or moving on. When Delia discovers that legendary horror show producer Jack Devine is at Shivercon it seems like a great opportunity to move their show to the next level.

The young women alternate narration. Delia is the emotional heart of the novel, desperately trying to find stability in her life, and Josie, witty and erudite, is ambitious and wants to bust open her life. Their friendship is intense but it seems to me that Delia does a lot more giving and forgiving than Josie.

Delia has depression, which is helped by medication – hooray for making this a depiction of the positive benefits of antidepressants. Additionally, Midnite Matinee with her best friend Josie gives her something to hold on to. Delia has also just discovered that her father lives close to where Shivercon is, so she could take the opportunity to see him and ask the question that has nagged her for so long – why did he leave?

Delia and Josie are spunky, foolhardy, brave (or oblivious as only a teenager could be) and get themselves into some wacky situations which are funny in the book but would be scary in real life and made me (as an adult and a parent) quite uncomfortable. However, the scenes of the setting up and taping of the show are hilarious and absolutely worth the price of admission..

This is a sweet and melancholy story about endings and beginnings, about a pivotal time of life (or at least, what feels like a pivotal time of life at the time) and two close friends going in different directions.

The Bridge Home by Padma Venkatraman

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The Bridge Home by Padma Venkatraman
Nancy Paulsen, February 2019

A heart-wrenching and deeply moving story about impoverished street kids in India. When sisters Viji and Rukku’s alcoholic father moves from beating their mother to hitting them, they run away from their village home to a big city. Viji is 11 and though Rukku is older, she has an intellectual disability so Viji makes the decisions.

With little money and without knowing anybody, Viji tries to find work and shelter, and they encounter threatening adults and kids as well as kind ones, eventually finding familial companionship with two boys, Arul and Muthu, sharing their tent home on an abandoned bridge. While Rukku finds some independence making necklaces, Viji picks up the boys’ trade of rag-picking but it’s a precarious life on the street particularly for girls and particularly with the rainy season threatening.

The reader is aware from the beginning that Viji and Rukku will be separated and this knowledge looms over the narrative, as Viji recalls their journey as though recounting it to Rukku, in the same way that she tells her nightly stories about two princesses.

Venkatraman (A Time to Dance, 2014)  shines a light on the appalling conditions that thousands of Indian children live in, through this short and elegantly written novel. Viji conveys the menace that some adults present but the author keeps this appropriate for a middle grade reader and is not explicit on the genuine and appalling threats that face the street kids. An author’s note gives more details.

Reviewed from an ARC.

To Night Owl from Dogfish by Holly Goldberg Sloan and Meg Wolitzer

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To Night Owl from Dogfish by Holly Goldberg Sloan and Meg Wolitzer
Dial/Dutton, February 2019

I have enjoyed Meg Wolitzer’s adult and YA novels very much, and found her a delightful and thoughtful raconteur when I saw her interviewed recently. I have been less keen on Holly Goldberg Sloan’s novels, they are still pretty good. It’s an interesting pairing and this interview talks about their friendship and their process.

Bett and Avery are both 12 and they both have single gay dads but little else in common. Bett lives in Venice, California, loves skateboarding, surfing outdoors and animals, and is not a great follower of rules. Her father is African American and her birth mother is Brazilian. Avery lives in New York, is vegetarian, loves science and reading and has “excessive worries”. Her dad is “Jewish Caucasian” and she knows nothing about her mother. So when their dads meet, fall in love, and decide to go to China for a motorcycling vacation, they want their daughters to go to camp together and get to know each other and the girls HATE the idea.  

As we find out through this novel told, mostly, in emails between the two girls some things work out according to plan and some things don’t. The two girls have funny and credible voices but though Bett feels authentic, Avery feels like a little like a caricature of a neurotic New York Jewish intellectual (though maybe not something middle schoolers will likely be aware of unless they watch Woody Allen movies).

Unfortunately the epistolary format means there is somewhat superficial character development and the authors load up on plot instead of emotional depth. The novel skims over a lot of ground very quickly and frequently leaves credibility behind on its way as it takes some surprising and often farfetched turns. But at its core, as a picture of the development of an unlikely friendship between two very different and initially reluctant girls, it works charmingly.

Reviewed from an ARC.